Not Lebanese. Welsh. Sounded gross, looked gross, did not taste gross; tasted great!
The butcher shop it came from,
which has a reflection of the chip shop across the street
which made this food:
(which I ate and really enjoyed).
Joy (in the middle photo) was my hostess and took me there. Thanks again, Joy! (Photos are clickable or you can see them all large here, but ignore the fish.)
In other news: The first set is not really food. The second set is really not food.
The door was made of candy:
Tumbleweed. I said I'd find a tumbleweed to take to the Santa Fe Symposium, and this was on Tahiti St., near our house. I asked Marty to leave the jeep in the shot for scale. We cannot take this to Santa Fe. TOOOO big. It's more than one tumbleweed, but they grew together from infancy. Seedlingness. Their whole single-season lives.